


Better Together

by sartietingles



Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, Idiots, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post S4 Graduation, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartietingles/pseuds/sartietingles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Artie, Sam and Puck head off to the big city of LA with nothing but a dream, a lust for shenanigans and each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Morning

**Author's Note:**

> So this is Spartie heading off to LA set after S4 graduation. For the record Sam is gay and Artie and Puck are bi in this story. Hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> This is dedicated to Jo and Liz my partners in crime and instigators of my insanity

It was going to be a warm day in Lima. The morning sun slid over the sleepy Sunday, soaking every ordinary morning thing until it shone with newness and promise.

This was a beginning.

Or… this could have just been how every morning looked and he was just never awake this early to see it – Artie really wasn't sure. He closed his curtains on the scene, wondering why he'd missed out on so many of these fabulous sunrises before. A dull, tired ache behind his eyes answered his question almost immediately. Suddenly exhausted, he slammed his head down on the window sill as he side-eyed his alarm clock where the luminous reminder of this ridiculous hour was blaring at him.

5:15am.

He wasn't sure he'd ever seen those numbers on a clock before.

With a dramatic sigh, he pulled on some travel-friendly clothes and swung open his curtains one last time. His opening scene was still spread out in front of him so he could resume projecting his nostalgia onto the landscape. Today was the day he was going to leave Lima far behind. It was the day he'd start his new life. So he was totally allowed to get all melancholy and thoughtful and hum dramatic movie soundtrack music to himself as imaginary opening credits popped up subtly in the bottom of the frame.

But before he could start scripting the voice over and attributing flashbacks to important items around his room, one half of the dual force propelling him into his future burst his door open.

"Hurry up," his friend Sam urged flatly. His frame took up most of Artie's doorway, which was nice because the light that leaked in from the hallway way too bright and Artie was on the verge of hissing and hiding behind a cape.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Artie deadpanned with disdain.

* * *

Earlier that morning, Puck felt a cool breeze on his head. There was a dim light shining through his eyelids but he rolled over, trying to ignore it. A quiet hand accompanied the breeze in his hair and another landed on his shoulder. As he leaned in to the touch there was a whisper of his name. He considered opening his eyes for what seemed like a really, really long time. Weighing up the pros and cons, he decided to roll over even further and get back to his dream. It was about him baking muffins with Hugh Jackman after they'd wrestled a crocodile. He'd leave the muffins part out when he told Sam and Artie about his dream, though.

The warm hands left him and he went to open his eyes to find out where they'd gone. He could only just make out Sam's shit-eating grin above him before he was shoved off his bed and into a blanket-y pile on the floor.

" _Dude_ ," was all Puck could make out. He tried to give Sam a look that told him he had never hated another person in his life more than he hated Sam in this moment. But Sam had his back to him already.

"Dude," Puck breathed scoldingly then rolled over, trying to see if he could catch a few more moments sleep in his blanket-y pile while Sam's back was turned.

But Sam was rummaging through his drawers and throwing clothes at him. "Get dressed," he said. "There's food for you downstairs if you hurry."

_Food._

Puck groped at the clothes and tried to sit up.

"You've packed, haven't you?" Sam asked, now leaning on the doorway. He looked impatient.

"Of course," Puck said. He then whistled in disapproval, holding up the clothes Sam had thrown at him. " _That_  shirt with  _those_  shoes?"

Not even a chuckle.

Puck wasn't sure how to respond to Sam like this. He tried another joke. "Dude, sometimes I wish you were more like Sassy Gay Friend. He wouldn't let me go out dressed like this."

Sam's mouth was drawn into an unimpressed line. "You'll just have to put up ordinary gay friend," he said irritably, turning on his heel.

"Whoa wait, dude," Puck hastily pulled on his shirt and some pants and followed Sam out. "What's with the cold shoulder?"

Sam kept walking until Puck pulled him by the arm, making him turn and face him. "Are you OK?"

Sam's expression and drawn out hesitation told Puck that he was not. He mumbled a lame excuse, avoiding Puck's gaze. Something about it being early and staying up packing. Puck knew there was more to it, but Sam looked so uncomfortable that he let it go (for now) and tried to be pleasant and civil.

Tried.

But he needed litres of coffee before he could manage such a thing so he wolfed down the omelette, blessing Sam for making him food. Like really, wow. What a bitchin' best friend. He poked his head into his little sister Sarah's room to ruffle her hair in goodbye and then went to give a hug to his mom. She kept her hand on his cheek and gave him one of those happy-sad mom looks.

"Be safe," she said.

After giving her a peck on the cheek, he ducked out.

"I need coffee," he moaned to Sam as soon as they got out the front door, bags in tow, ready to begin the short walk to Artie's house where they would begin their journey to LA.

Sam sighed, checking his watch anxiously even though they had literally no deadlines.  _Well, we said we wanted to be in Chicago for lunch but when even is lunch it could be 12 it could be like 4 and what if we see cool shit on the way?_  Puck was concerned, but hoping that coffee would cure everything.

He dragged Sam into the nearest open-at-5am-so-it's-almost-guaranteed-to-be-terrible take-away coffee joint and bought them two of the largest cups of coffee they'd ever seen. Each. Then he bought a huge slice of carrot cake. He had a few mouthfuls and then told Sam he didn't like it (he loved it) and that Sam should finish it (Puck would go on to have mixed feelings about this for days) because Sam loves cake but never buys it for himself because he's 'healthy' or some shit.

Sam had an I-want-it-but-I-don't-want-to-want-it look on his face as Puck shoved it across the table to him.

"It's  _carrot cake_  dude," Puck insisted. "There's like nuts and stuff in it as well. This is basically a salad. But baked."

Sam smiled properly for the first time that morning. "Ok," he gave in.

And the two got to work finished their awful coffees and wonderful cake (well, Puck didn't have any and he had an internal I Dreamed a Dream montage of him eating the cake going on in his mind) in silence before stumbling along to Artie's house and the start of their journey.

* * *

An hour or so earlier, Sam's own alarm clock had sounded. Sam, unlike his friends, was usually a morning person. Many a time had he braved the dawn hours for a jog, to finish some last minute homework after a late shift at work, or just to get to synchronised swimming practice on time. This was nothing new.

Normally, he'd get up easily. He'd do a couple of jumping jacks, some push ups, make himself a decent breakfast and leap out the door to embrace the day. Even when he was down ( _especially_  when he was down), Sam always tried to make the effort to start the day in the best way possible. That way there'd be a better chance of the rest of it going well.

Today, however, Sam didn't budge from his bed for a good ten minutes. He stared at the ceiling where the glow in the dark astronomy stickers that Stacy and Stevie had got him for Christmas stared back at him. Their glow was fading in the beginnings of morning light. Sam tried to name all the constellations and planets like he had many times before. It was how he calmed down. And judging by the sick feeling in his stomach, the pounding of his heart and his shortness of breath, he really needed calming down.

_We're starting new life so far away with so little support and so much opportunity to fail._

_The average galaxy contains 40 billion stars. Most stars are as big as or bigger than the sun._

_Puck's already been to LA and Artie's good at everything he tries. He knows about movies and TV and he's so fucking talented. They both are. And then there's me._

_The light that comes from the Sun is actually 30,000 years old and only half a billionth of it reaches Earth._

_My parents won't be getting any money from me and if anything happens with dad's job again it's going to be even harder than before…_

_If you compare the sizes of the sun and the earth it's like comparing a basketball and a mosquito. And humans are like mosquitos (or smaller) to the Earth's basketball._

_I am so fucking scared._

But before he could drown that one out, his snooze button went off. Sam sat up and crawled out of bed, did a couple of push ups and jogged on the spot. Made an omelette. Stopped to reconsider. Made another omelette because only food would get Puck out of bed at this hour. Congratulated self on being a great fucking friend. Went to wake up Stevie and Stacy. Hugs and kisses, promises of letters and emails and tickets to red carpet events. A few tears. From all of them. A brief goodbye to his parents, who were used to letting him go and had gotten good at pretending it didn't still hurt. And vice versa.

And then Sam strolled out the door, luggage towing heavily behind him.

This was a beginning.

And he was so fucking scared.

* * *

"Good morning to you too, sunshine."

Sam laughed off Artie's scowl.

"I can't think of any reason you made us get up at this time other than you knew it would piss us off," Artie grumbled at the newly arrived Sam, moving to grab his luggage which contained his life for the foreseeable future. Sam, chivalrous as ever, beat him to it. He easily swung the two large suitcases up and strolled out of the room, leaving Artie charmed as he always was at Sam's gestures like this.

"Hey," Sam said defensively, leading Artie down the hall, "At least you got an extra 20 minutes since I picked up Puck first."

"That's cos I'm your favourite," Artie said matter-of-factly.

A faint murmur of "wow gay" came from down the hall, alerting Artie of Puck's presence.

Sam, ignoring Puck, challenged Artie. "Maybe Puck's my favourite and I picked him up first to spend more time with him."

"Them's fighting words," Artie said.

There was another echo of "wow gay" and then a sigh from Puck, who could sense a long-winded bickering session between his two friends that he was too tired to handle right now. "How about we're both his favourite," he suggested diplomatically.

"That could work," Sam agreed.

And it did.

Eventually.

The goodbye at the Abrams household lasted much longer than Sam's or Puck's because 1) Artie was the only one who'd never been away from home for an extended period of time before and 2) Artie's parents were serial worriers and terrified at the idea of their baby, fresh out of high school, heading off to the big city with nothing but a dream and his two idiot friends.

"You can come back any time," Artie's dad insisted while Artie's mom nodded fervently. He hugged Artie lightly and shook hands with Puck and Sam. Then he ushered them to bunch up as he took a series of blurry, thumb-framed photos with Artie's camera.

"Thanks, Dad," Artie smiled as he quickly skimmed through the photos to see if he looked too bad in them and found that he really couldn't tell either way.

His mom gave them each a mother-y kiss on the cheek as she urged, "You don't have to win this time; LA will always be there for you to go back to if things don't work out."

Artie felt Sam, who sat on the arm of Artie's chair, grow tense next to him. There was a sharp inhale of breath and a quiet change in his forcedly polite smile to an uncomfortable grimace as Artie's mom tactfully listed all the ways they could fuck up and still be welcomed home. Puck, who was on Sam's other side and had an arm still slung over him from posing for the photo, noticed too. He gripped Sam's shoulder a little tighter and pulled him a fraction closer. Artie leaned in slightly to Sam so that his shoulder touched Sam's hip. On both counts, it was just a touch. But Sam instantly felt better. Or… not better. But just not so alone.

His shit to deal with was no longer just his shit. It was  _their_  shit.

They were in this together now.

This was a beginning.

And as nervous, uneasy, terrified or hesitant they were and would soon be - they would at least never be alone.


	2. Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before they could properly freak out (in ways good and bad) about their new life, it was time for goodbyes. And drinking.

Puck had insisted that the week before he, Artie and Sam left for LA, they needed a going away party. This was partly because Puck would take any excuse for a party. It was also partly because their friends thought (with good reason) that they were immature idiots who would starve and/or live in filth when left to their own devices. So the chances of the boys being showered with useful crap that they wouldn't ever think to buy for themselves were really high.

So Artie and Sam were totally on board. Because party. And free stuff.

Also they thought they should have a proper goodbye to their friends because, if all went according to plan, they wouldn't be back in Lima for a really, really long time. And they wouldn't be dropping in every other day to give longing looks to past lovers or… to get it on with sophomores ("Yeah,  _Puck_." "Hey! I'm not proud of that either, guys, ok shut up!") because that would be tacky as shit. So goodbyes were definitely in order.

As for The Plan itself, it was something they'd been tossing around hypothetically for ages. They'd all go to LA, write scripts, make movies and make it big together. It didn't seem at all like any sort of reality though... too good to be true, a man can dream and all that.

Anyway, after Sam retook the SATs with Artie's help and actually did quite well, he and Artie were both set on going to college. They told themselves LA could wait. On a dreamy whim, however, they both applied to a couple of colleges in LA. Just in case. Because who knows, right?

So everything changed when they both got accepted.

Sam was to do Music Therapy and Artie got into Film at UCLA. When they caught up with Puck for a late night Minecraft/baking session (Sam spoke for about twenty minutes on how baking was just Minecraft with food blocks and less punching wood, Puck made a penis joke about punching wood and Artie judged them; it was a pretty typical night) they told him the news.

"We're going to LA," Artie and Sam announced together.

Puck beamed at them, then looked thoughtful. "Wait," he said, "Is that 'we' as in you two or we as in all of us?"

Sam and Artie looked at each other. They hadn't thought this far ahead yet, but really… they already knew the answer. They looked back at Puck and said simultaneously, "All of us."

Puck beamed even harder and pulled his two best friends in for an epic hug.

Sam was kind of half expecting they would have one of those high school movie jumping up and down squealing at good news moments. It didn't happen and he was a little disappointed.  _Next time,_  he whispered internally.

"This is gonna be the best," Puck said, "I promise."

After much deliberation, Sam and Artie decided to defer their courses for a year so that they could get properly settled into LA and, as Puck kept saying, "establish their brand."

"I'll establish  _you_ ," Sam retorted lamely after hearing it like twelve times in two minutes.

"Dude, that doesn't even make sense."

"I know. We've  _established_  that."

"I fucking hate both of you," Artie groaned.

And then, after a year, depending on how things went, Sam and Artie would head to college in LA they'd all keep living together, working on their projects.

One night when they were scheming in his room, Artie realised there was kind of a gaping hole in their plan. He asked Puck, "So… what'll you do when we're at college?"

And to tell the truth, Puck didn't know. He was glad Sam and Artie deferring their courses for a year meant that they could all work together for a while, and that they weren't leaving him behind yet. It was the 'yet' part that was the problem. But, as a rule, Puck tried to avoid speculating about his future because it nearly always lead to bad thoughts. So he told Artie what he always told himself: "I'll worry about that when it happens."

Artie smiled and, after seeing the falseness in the smile that Puck returned, kind of felt douchy for bringing up the whole college thing at all. Trying to mend the situation, he mentioned that Puck could do some short courses if he wanted to, because he'd totally get in if he applied himself. Artie truly believed that Puck could do anything. And he needed him to know that.

"Nah, dude," Puck said. He was flattered and grateful as always for Artie's relentless urging that he y had potential and was actually worth the effort. It was refreshing and… really great. As he wandered across the room to write something on their evil schemes whiteboard, he gave his friend a friendly clap on the shoulder to show some sort of gratitude. "I'll make my own way… somehow."

Artie understood. Puck never felt the system worked for him so why would he work for the system, Artie thought. He'd go his own way and, hopefully, Artie (and Sam) would be along for the ride.

But before they could properly freak out (in ways good and bad) about all that, it was time for goodbyes. And drinking.

They had the party at Artie's house because Puck's favourite thing to say was "Party at Artie's" ("Jam at Sam's" and "fuck at Puck's" were his other favourites).

Most of the original members of ND showed up because they all just seemed to appear in Lima when people had milestones. Sam, Artie and Puck were unused to their roles as hosts since they usually spent glee parties huddled up in a corner laughing at each other's bad jokes and taking bets on who'd hook up with whom. But they managed to tear themselves away from each other and actually be social since the whole point was that they'd be living together for the foreseeable future and  _not_  be seeing these other people.

Pretty soon after the party started Puck tried to locate Jake and Marley so he could talk to his brother and continue his ongoing argument with Marley about whether Marius should have gone for Cosette or Eponine, but he was cornered by Quinn.

She greeted him with the usual winning smile and familiar hug.

He went to say 'hi' and 'how are you' and 'how many life changing hairdos have you had since we last saw each other', but she cut him off with an earnest hand on his shoulder. "I'm so proud of you," she beamed.

Puck would have been taken aback had it been anyone else. But this was Quinn. She was always real with him. No need for bullshit They were properly close and cared sincerely about each other. Puck winced internally in brief anticipation of all the trivial small talk bullshit he'd have to endure with everyone who wasn't Quinn.

He quickly scoffed and gave her a challenging look. "For what? Totally failing LA? And then coming back and doing literally nothing? Pretending to go to college? Being a huge waste of everyone's time?" There was a laugh in his voice but not his eyes.

"You're scared," Quinn said. It wasn't a question.

Puck didn't deny it. There was no point.

Quinn nodded, understanding. "That's ok." She smiled at him again and went on. "And I  _am_  proud of you for all of those things. Because you learned. Because you're going to do LA all over again and not take no for an answer. And because you're doing it with people you love."

Puck's gaze drifted over Quinn's shoulder to where Sam and Artie were sitting at the karaoke machine, screaming 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' at each other and he couldn't help but smile. Even if just for a second… before he gave Quinn a deadpan stare and drawled, "Wow, gay."

Quinn rolled her eyes and grinned. "You're an idiot."

Puck flashed her a smirk. "Yeah, but you  _love it._ "

Quinn made a face and retorted childishly, "Not as much as you  _love_ Sam and Artie. I can see your broner from here."

And the string of insults continued for an embarrassingly long time. It was more than a little concerning that the only two people in the room who were parents were also behaving the most childishly.

Meanwhile, Artie had cornered Mercedes and was quizzing her about all the action in LA.

"On average how much more attractive are LA ladies than Lima ladies?" he asked seriously, sipping a concoction of alcohol mixed with more alcohol and a crapton of sugar and mostly likely more alcohol. He really shouldn't have let Rachel be in charge of the alcohol to be honest. Apparently even after a year in a pretentious New York college her taste hadn't improved.

Mercedes giggled. "I wouldn't know! It's not exactly something I reserve a lot of brain space for."

Artie sighed. "Straight people," he muttered, shaking his head. "Y'all are cray."

Mercedes snorted and gave his arm a light push, which was apparently enough to make him gracefully spill the bright pink drink all over his giant sweater.

"Oh you  _did not_!" Artie gasped, feeling the stickiness seep onto his stomach. Mercedes tried to apologise but she couldn't keep the giggles in. Artie joined in and they soon were scream-laughing so hard that they spilled everything else that was within reach.

Eventually Artie regained his composure and returned to the pressing issue at hand: "No but seriously, how hot are the LA guys?"

Mercedes smirked. "Now  _that_  is a good question."

"You totally owe me an ex-boyfriend's number now," he insisted, gesturing wildly to his newly pinked sweater and all the other surfaces that were now covered in pink. "Preferably a newly dumped, needy one. With a nice ass."

"You think I would date someone who didn't have a nice ass?" she sassed.

"You dated Puck," Artie retorted, snapping his fingers in a z formation as she giggled.

" _How dare you_ ," Puck had suddenly appeared and was standing over them with a dangerous expression.

"That's kind of creepy," Artie muttered.

"My ass sense was tingling," Puck said. He leapt over the couch that separated them and brandished an air sword at Artie. "Do you dishonour my ass, sir?"

Artie grinned. "I do dishonour your ass, sir."

"Do you dishonour  _my_  ass, sir?"

Artie looked at Mercedes. "Is the law on my side if I say aye?"

"What is happening?" she whispered.

"That's as much as I know of the scene," Puck admitted, sheathing his imaginary sword somewhat meekly. But in a moment he had regained his ferocity. "Now, Artie," he took a dramatic step towards Artie and knelt to be at his level. "You have to look me in the eyes and tell me I don't have a great butt."

Artie stared wide-eyed as Puck slowly edged closer and closer towards him.

"Say it," Puck dared. Artie could feel his breath on his face.

A tense moment passed. Puck's face was barely inches away from Artie's, eyes boring into him.

It seemed as if utter silence had engulfed the party. There wasn't a pair of eyes that wasn't fixated on the conflict. Every heartbeat echoed like a drum. Every breath hurricane through the room but still could not quake the tension. This was a mighty battle indeed.

But it soon became too much for poor Artie.

"FINE," Artie cried, defeated, "YOU HAVE A NICE ASS."

Puck took a moment to smirk at Artie before climbing grandly onto the back of the couch. He opened his arms wide and proclaimed, "BALANCE IS ONCE AGAIN RESTORED. ALL IS WELL."

Mercedes was already walking away from them. "I'm suddenly," she began, as she backed off, giving an affected pause, " _inexplicably_  less keen on you two hauling your crazy asses down to LA. Where I live. And will have to see you. Regularly."

"You know you'll love it!" Artie and Puck chimed together.

"No," she whispered, still backing away.

At the other side of the room, Kurt sighed. "Your friends are so weird," Kurt chuckled at Sam who was sitting cross legged on the floor next to him, eyeing his two idiots fondly.

"Says Mr. Boyfriend Pillow," Sam grinned devilishly.

Kurt gasped and immediately turned on Blaine, eyes wide with accusation. " _You told him?_ "

Blaine looked like he wanted to hide. "It just… came up?" he tried.

"It's OK, dude." Sam clapped Kurt on the shoulder and smiled reassuringly. He went on, proclaiming in a dramatic voice and gesturing grandly around the group: "Your secret is safe within the Circle of Gay."

Santana, who had also been sitting next to Kurt and filling her nails, looked around as if she had just realised where she was and who she was sitting with. "Oh wow," she said. "This is _so_  not a thing."

She promptly stalked off to join Unique at the foosball table.

Sam giggled. "That really didn't last long."

Blaine nodded and sang the chorus of 'Rolling in the Deep' under his breath.

"So, Kurt?" Sam began after a moment's silence. "What's it like not being the only gay in the village?"

Kurt looked offended. "I can't believe you just quoted Little Britain without doing the accent."

Sam chuckled and asked again in the accent.

"Much better."

"I'm serious, Kurt," Sam said. "Is it everything we've ever dreamed of or should I not get my hopes up too much?"

Kurt smiled. "I think the best moment for me was when I was on the subway in like… the first couple of days I was there. And I saw this guy; really cute, well dressed, nice smile, you know? And I smiled at him. Not on purpose, it just sort of happened. And I felt sick straight away. Because I still had Lima brain thinking that if I looked at a guy I'd be chased down the street with torches and pitch forks."

The three of them chuckled darkly.

"But he smiled back," Kurt went on. "Like properly  _smiled_. He was totally checking me out. So from then on I kind of started to feel less… afraid."

Sam was smiling widely. "Awesome."

"It's not going to be all sunshine and daisies and rainbows," Kurt said diplomatically. "But it's better than here."

The party went on mostly as expected for the next few hours. The karaoke machine got a real workout and after four loud ballad duets Blaine and Rachel were banned completely. Across the room, Finn and Puck had Joe, Kitty, Sugar and Jake gathered around them cross-legged as they told stories of their… fruitful experiences at college. It looked like a scene from kindergarten if you removed the dubious subject matter. After three slow dance numbers during which they'd eyed each other longingly and after 4 courage shots each, Ryder and Unique were making out in an armchair and Sam owed Tina twenty bucks. After the fifth Michael Jackson song in a row Artie and Mike too were banned from the karaoke machine. And Quinn and Tina conspicuously disappeared together for an hour before returning looking quite dishevelled and Artie owed Santana twenty bucks.

As the party began to wind down Artie suddenly had a brilliant idea. He rolled up to the little pile of presents that had grown at the edge of the room and tried to launch himself at them like a flying fox. Emphasis on the 'tried'. Drunk wobbles had gotten the better of him and he just sort of slid out of his chair cackling. Which was rather fortunate because a pile of appliances wasn't really the softest landing. Sam wasn't together enough to help him back up to the chair so he ended up pulling him onto his lap and the two sat there laughing stupidly loudly until everyone eventually came over.

Puck licked his lips as he approached the pile of presents. "I'll do the honours," he announced, plonking himself firmly on the ground next to Artie and Sam and greedily grabbing the nearest gift.

It was a totally good haul, just as they had expected. Blaine, Mike and Tina had got them a toaster that they had drawn a big cartoon face on in permanent marker. Ryder and Jake put together a road trip mix tape which was actually really sweet and resulted in bro hugs all around. Unique gave Artie a tiara as a reminder that the other two needed to bow to his fabulous self. And she and Marley had got caped superhero socks for the other two. Kurt and Mercedes gave them a compact indoor washing line and like three boxes of washing powder because "yes you need it and no we don't trust you to buy it yourselves and Sam I will not allow you to soil the good name of all that is gay". Rachel gave them autographed pictures of herself because "they'll be worth a lot really soon". Santana, Brittany and Quinn got them a bunch of cookbooks. Santana's was called 'Cook to Bang: The Lay Cook's Guide to Getting Laid'. Brittany's was a basic kids' cookbook which would probably turn out to be extremely useful since the three of them were actually children. And Quinn's was called 'Microwave Gourmet' and had everything from scrambled eggs to full on impressive meals in there.

By then the three of them were pretty emotional about how thoughtful all the gifts were and they really thought they'd had their fill of long, drawn out 'aw's and semi-teary hugs.

The last present wrapped simply in a brown paper bag sat quietly by them. Puck picked it up an read Finn's scribble of a card out to everyone. "To my brothers Artie, Sam and Puck. I owe you everything."

Finn had already turned bright red and was making excuses. "It's totally lame but… I couldn't think of what else to get you."

Sam reached over Artie, who was still sitting in his lap, and punched Finn in the shoulder. "Shut up. We'll like it."

Puck grinned encouragingly as he tore apart the paper bag it was in and out fell a large, black book.

"A book?" Puck groaned.

"It's not a book," Finn mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Puck opened it up to see a picture of himself and Finn when they were 11 at one of their little league games. Finn still had his stupid long haircut and Puck had freckles.

Puck's breath hitched. "Dude, what is this?" The rest of the party quickly gathered around him to peer over his shoulder and point and laugh.

He kept flicking through as, in the photos, he and Finn evolved from middle schoolers to only slightly more baby faced versions of themselves, in high school. And on the next page the Glee photos started and there was Artie – looking basically the same as he did now and making some gang sign at the camera. Soon Sam's face was popping up in the pictures too. There were about four pages dedicated to the over 300 selfies Sam and Finn had taken with Artie's camera when he hadn't been watching them carefully enough in photography class. There were photos from glee club, football, Artie's various short films they'd all been cast in, 4am Halo tournaments in which they all looked like zombies, and all of the proms and dances and graduations and long nights at Scandals and Breadstix they'd done together.

And after a gratuitous selfie that the four of them had taken just days ago (they were all wearing the same colour t-shirt and thought it was the coolest thing ever), the pages became blank. There was a blue sticky note plastered on the first empty page that simply read: "I guess you'll just have to photoshop me in now. Good luck. You'll be great."

There was a moment of silence. And then an audible sniff. And then another. And another still.

"Finn that is  _so sweet_ ," Tina wailed through sobs.

Kurt quietly wiped his eyes.

Santana scowled. "Way to make all of our presents look bad, Frankenteen."

Sam went to call her out on crying at everything, but the knot in his own throat told him he'd probably start too if he tried to speak. There was an audible crack in Artie's voice when he said, "Thanks, Finn." Puck remained tight-lipped as he pulled Finn into a tight hug. And before long, the rest of the room had piled in on the hug as well.

"I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH I'M GOING TO DIE," Artie shrieked from the middle of the hug. He was an emotional drunk.

After they broke apart there were insistent yells of, "SPEECH, SPEECH, SPEECH, SPEECH."

But after years of knowing Sam, Artie and Puck they really should have known they had something prepared. And 'something' this time, as always, meant an elaborately choreographed boyband song.

Tonight it was 'As Long As You Love Me' by the Backstreet Boys and although Sam messed up the dance moves more than usual due to his intoxication, all their friends got up and sang and danced and laughed along.

Because it didn't matter who they were, where they were from or what they'd done - as long as they loved each other.

And that was kind of the point, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this! The mighty road trip begins in the next chapter!


End file.
